


friends in low places: the authorized continuation.

by flakypie



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gay, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm stealing this idea for my gay purposes, angel aaron, badass tamara, call is still confused, calron obvs, continuing another author's work b/c it's beautiful and I want it on the archive, demon tamara, jasper still has anime hair, the obligatory angel/demon au, wooo we're doing this ladies and gents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26107045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flakypie/pseuds/flakypie
Summary: Summary and first chapter by original author:"In any other situation, Call would be thrilled to have two gorgeous people fighting over him. In this case, though, he thinks he might have to make an exception, considering that they’re both murderous psychopaths who seem disturbingly into Satanism and bondage.OR: the obligatory angel/demon AU in which call is clueless, Tamara's a professional badass at age 14, and Aaron's just an underpaid intern trying his best."Full disclosure: I just thought this was a cool idea and the author hasn't updated in a year and I got tired of waiting so here. I  have NO CLUE what their actual intent was so this is all just speculation : P. Anyway, enjoy!
Relationships: Callum Hunt/Aaron Stewart
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27





	1. the one where call's definitely not going to get murdered in the woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poipletoitle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poipletoitle/gifts).
  * Inspired by [friends in low places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249315) by [poipletoitle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poipletoitle/pseuds/poipletoitle). 



> This chapter is by the original author, but if you hadn't read it I figured I would give you the first chapter.

So, here’s the deal: Call’s pretty sure that he’s being stalked.

He doesn’t really understand _why_ , because based on his very limited knowledge, most stalkers are obsessed with celebrities and thus usually have higher standards than 13-year-old boys who limp constantly and have under-eye bags the size of a small country, but here he is. Although, come to think of it, his limp and obvious signs of exhaustion might make him an easier target for any pedophiles looking to kidnap him and then murder him in the woods—

Yeah, Call really needs to stop bingeing Criminal Minds instead of sleeping. It’s not helping him think positive thoughts like the guidance counselor would want him to. Okay; positive thought number one: Call’s stalker probably isn’t a pedophile who’s going to murder him and is instead creepily fixated on Call for other, non-murdery reasons. Great.

While Call’s not exactly sure what his stalker wants with him, or who they are, or why no one else has noticed the fact that he’s being followed, he is pretty damn sure that his stalker exists. So he’s been doing what any other totally sane kid would do: compiling a list of evidence. He is, after all, eventually going to have to tell his dad and then probably the police and convince them that no, this is not just another prank (which, come to think of it, is probably going to be a lot harder after the whole naked mole rat incident a couple of weeks ago. Oh well.)

Anyway. Reasons why Call’s totally being stalked:

1\. Security cameras have started swiveling to follow him whenever he walks into stores or cafes. At first Call just thought it was because of people’s tendency to assume that any kid who isn’t white and wears too many hoodies is Up To No Good, but fifteen times in one day seems a bit excessive.

2\. There’s a really ugly car parked on across from his house that hasn’t moved in two weeks, and it doesn’t belong to any of their neighbors; Call’s asked.

3\. When he opened his locker last Thursday, all of his papers had apparently shifted overnight and were stacked in way that was actually halfway neat. Which is terrifying, because the last time Call organized anything was _never._

4\. Havoc keeps on waking Call up in the middle of the night by barking and staring out Call’s window at something that, when he gets up to check, is never there. Considering that dogs have freaky super-senses when it comes to detecting stuff like that, Call’s willing to trust Havoc on this one.

5\. Call’s gotten that creepy I’m-being-watched feeling too many times now for it to be a coincidence. It’s a little terrifying, sure, but honestly? It’s mostly just really annoying. It's hard to function normally when he feels like a million eyes are tracking his every move any time he leaves the house. Like when he and his dad went to Walmart last week. Or when he’s at the park with Havoc. Or when he’s walking home from school, like he is right now.

It doesn’t help that the street he’s currently strolling down seems suspiciously deserted for three-thirty on a Monday. He’s walked by at least three shops and even a park, all of which have been notably empty. No cars have passed him for a solid five minutes now. If his life were a movie (unlikely) or a badly-edited comedy sketch (more likely), there would definitely be a couple tumbleweeds bouncing down the road. It’s _creepy._

Call’s trying to not think about that too hard, though, so instead he just speeds up his lopsided walk and mentally goes through everything he has to do once he gets home today. His dad won’t be back from the garage until after six, so as long as Call sets aside enough time to do the dishes before then, he can take Havoc to the nicer dog park that’s a couple blocks farther away than their usual one and—

**_CLANG!_ **

Call bites down on a screech and nearly loses his balance, arms windmilling wildly as he whirls around to face the direction the noise came from. He squints and scans the stretch of road behind him, eyes eventually landing on the alley he just walked by when another, only slightly softer **_CLANG!_** rings out. Call (barely) keeps himself from jumping again, and instead summons every ounce of bravery he has and moves slightly closer to the mouth of the alley.

“Hello?” Call calls out, exactly like every teen about to die in a B-list horror movie. He nearly facepalms after realizing that, then goes back to warily eyeing the alley. It’s dead silent again, but the feeling of being watched hasn’t faded at all, and he definitely heard _something._

“Yeah, okay, fuck this,” Call mutters to himself, before forcing his feet to move away and in the direction of his house. Weird noises in the middle of a deserted street are definitely bad news. Call should probably just keep walking. It would be the smart thing to do.

**_CLANG!_ **

Call freezes, then turns, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Takes a moment to consider. And, well, he’s never done the smart thing before, so really, why start now? Sure, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, right? And Call is definitely curious about his stalker. Curious, scared, and a little pissed off, actually, which is a great combination of emotional problems that can totally be solved by blindly walking into a shady alley because he heard a strange noise.

...This is horrible plan.

...Whatever. Call’s going to do it anyway. Maybe he’ll surprise whoever it is and somehow scare them off. Maybe he’s about to get murdered. Maybe he’s being paranoid and the clanging was just a dumpster falling shut or something. Right now, Call is way past the point of caring—he just wants to be able to live his life without feeling constantly on edge, and maybe yell a ~~lot~~ little at whoever is maybe-probably stalking him.

Call takes a moment to wish that he had Havoc with him. Two hundred pounds of massive wolf-dog would probably be enough to warn off any potential threats. Unfortunately, it’s just him and the theoretical tumbleweeds, so instead Call reaches into his lunch box and grabs the plastic knife he’d swiped from the cafeteria earlier today. It’s better than nothing.

He bites his lip, still feeling on edge, then takes a deep breath to steal himself. _Now or never, Hunt,_ he thinks grimly, then braces himself and turns the corner, charging into the alley.

“FUCK OFF YOU… creepy… asshole…”

Call’s voice trails off as he stares into the completely deserted alley. The completely deserted alley stares back. Call slowly lowers the plastic knife he has clutched in his right hand as he watches a Twix wrapper drift across the dirty concrete. Other than that, nothing moves.

He barely has time to think _well, that was anticlimactic_ before something hits him on the back of the head. _Hard._

He’s unconscious seconds later.


	2. the one where Call is exceptionally confused and pretty sure he’s mildly concussed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Call wakes up and finally meets his stalker.

The first thing Call noticed when he woke up was his head pounding, as if someone 4 stories above him had dropped a brick on him. The second thing Call noticed was someone had tied him to a chair, and tightly, at that. Call was secretly a little glad to have his stalker theory confirmed, until he realized Havoc was nowhere to be seen. Call’s bad leg ached like hell, and he started looking around his prison. 

The entire thing was either cement or concrete (Call could never tell the difference, despite many, many conversations with his father on how they were different). Along the wall, there were assorted hooks, and he was pretty sure his hopefully not a pedophile stalker slash kidnapper was into either torture or BDSM, because it looked like a medieval dungeon had thrown up everywhere and then arranged it on the wall from ‘terrifying’ to ‘more terrifying’ to ‘I don’t even know how you would use this on a human’. 

There were also some suspicious red stains on the floor, and Call’s stomach grumbling reminded him that skipping lunch that day and instead opting to nap might not have been such a good idea. On the bright side, Call thought, getting knocked out and potentially getting mildly concussed gave him the best sleep he’d had in weeks. 

Call decided the best thing to do right now would probably be to get untied, escape the murder dungeon, and go to McDonald’s. Call also figured if his hopefully not a pedophile stalker had a murder dungeon, they were pretty good at doing what they did. And from his experience of binging an eclectic mixture of assorted horror, sci-fi, and detective shows, Call could definitively say that if they didn’t blindfold him, they didn’t plan on Call going anywhere anytime soon, lest of all McDonald’s. Call’s internal monologue was interrupted by a door behind him he hadn’t realized existed opening, and a set of footsteps walking into the room. 

“Um, hi.” Call said, wondering what he was supposed to say to his… Kidnalker? Stalknapper?

“Callum Hunt.” a voice said from behind his head, which Call identified as probably female.

“Uh, yes?” Call said, trying to crane his neck to see who the stalknapper was. 

“I’ve been watching you for a while now.” said the voice.

“Uh, yeah, I know. I’m not completely obtuse.” Call replied, hoping the stalknapper wasn’t easily angered. Call heard a chuckle emerge from the stalknapper, which he was hoping was a good thing.

“People are fighting over you, Hunt.” the voice said. “Powerful people. Well, more than usual.” Now, Call was confused. Well, more than he was originally.

“Who are you? Where am I? Who is fighting over me and why?” Call said, desperate for answers. All he got was a laugh. It was a nice laugh, but considering it was emerging from Call’s personal interrogator, he decided to omit it from the mental report he was compiling. 

“Look, our side has you now. You don’t need to know anything more than from now on, your life is going to be very different.” the voice said.

“Can I at least get some food, or are you just going to starve me until I slowly die of hunger?” Call said, suddenly remembering how hungry he was.

“Oh, that’s right. Humans need to eat. I’ll be back later.” the voice said, as if they weren’t human themselves.

“No, WAIT!” Call yelled, but whoever they were, they had already left, leaving Call to wriggle at his bonds, which made his bad leg cramped up and did very little to help the situation. After a couple minutes of flopping like a dying fish, Call gave up, and tried to get as comfortable as possible in his chair. After what seemed like hours but was honestly probably just Call’s impatience, the door swung open again.

“I hope you like Burger King, because that’s all we’ve got.” the voice said, walking over to him. Call was both excited and terrified to see the face of his stalknapper…

She was textbook pretty, with light brown skin and her black hair in two perfect braids. She was also dressed… completely normally. If Call had seen her walking down the street, he wouldn’t have pegged her for the kind to stalk him for weeks on end and then knock him out in a sketchy alleyway.

“You’re a kid.” Call said.

“Um, no.” the girl said, looking at him as if he’d said something funny. She set the bag of food down next to Call, and he ws pretty sure his eyes were extending out of his head by a good quarter inch. 

“I’m going to untie you now, but if you try to so much as move an inch out of line you’re going to regret it.” Call swallowed hard. The girl took out a long, sharp knife from her combat boot, which now that he saw it Call probably would have pegged as slightly weird, and proceeded to cut the rope Call was tied to the chair with. Just as Call started to get free, the walls started shaking.

“What the hell is that?” said Call, but the girl just shushed him.

“They’re here.” 


	3. the one in which Call is both awestruck and terrified and also very hungry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title says it all lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! This is officially the newly authorized continuation of friends in low places, so buckle up, buckaroos!

The girl stood poised with her knife, as if she'd had plenty of practice with it. Call slowly slid over and grabbed the bag of food, the girl eyed him dubiously but said nothing. Secretly, Call thought his stalknapper looked totally badass and more than a tad bit attractive, but seeing as there was something bursting down the walls and Call had a shot of limping out of the bdsm dungeon, Call wasn't gonna stick around to hit on her. 

Finally, the wall caved, and Call couldn't believe his eyes. It was an angel. An actual, real life, angel, with gorgeous blonde hair, emerald eyes, and pure white wings. Call checked to make sure he wasn't actively drooling, and then took several steps back once he realized the angel in question was wielding a giant flaming sword.

"Aaron, the little angel." the girl snarled, revealing a pair of... fangs? Call squinted, rubbed his eyes, and squinted again. When and if he got out of this situation, he was taking an eye test. 

"Tamara, the demon scum." What Call inferred was Aaron with a sneer of contempt. 

"The half-breed's mine, Stewart. Lord Constantine's got plans for this one." Tamara, the stalknapper said, eyes flashing red. Call was not here right now. Call was a chair, he thought to himself, standing as still as possible whilst shoving fries in his face.

The angel laughed, a twinkly, musical, laugh, and swung his oversized sword onto his shoulder. "The only Lord is the Lord above, Rufus. You of all people should know that. And Rufus has graciously decided to bring the child up in the ways of the light." 

Call didn't know who was gonna win, and he was, moreover, incredibly confused. 

"Uh, sorry to interrupt your thing here." Call said, munching on a chicken nugget. "But who are you referring to, exactly?"

"To whom" Aaron corrected, and Tamara rolled her eyes.

"You, idiot." she said, flicking a dark braid to her back as she turned around to face Call. Him? No, that wasn't possible. He was Callum Hunt, the boy with a limp, the certified fuck-up. 

"Uh, hate to burst your bubble here, angel dude and demon lady, but I'm not a "half-breed" or an angel, or a demon, and I got no clue who either Rufus or Constantine are so..."

Aaron shot Call a perplexed look and looked at Tamara. "You're the best bounty hunter in the 7 hells and you got the wrong person?"

"No, you idiot, he's Alistair's kid alright. Humans are adept at lying." She said, eyes raking over Call in a fashion that made him want to add a couple layers. "Or maybe," she said pensively, "Alistair's never told him his pops used to be a demon."

"What?" Call said, more confused than when he'd intervened. "What do you mean?" Tamara rolled her eyes, snapped her fingers, and to Call's amazement horns grew from either side of her forehead and a tail poked out just above her waistband. Very little made sense right now, Call thought, dipping a nugget into barbecue sauce.

"I'm bored." she said with fire in her eyes. "Fight me for the half-breed. I haven't seen you in millennia."

"Been busy." the angel said, hefting his sword back into his arms. 

What Call saw next practically defied description. Aaron stepped into the room, unfolding his wings to their full length, which was easily ten feet, and swung out with his massive flaming sword. Tamara rolled under the swing, raking her dagger along Aaron's perfect wings. Call bit his lip, but as much as he wanted Aaron to be ok, he wasn't going to risk getting in between them and hurting himself in the process. Then, Aaron swung out with the sword again, which barely grazed Tamara's leg, but made her double over in agony.

"Using a holy sigil on your blade only makes you more of a coward, Aaron. You know this wasn't a fair fight." Tamara says, groaning in pain. Then, her tail swipes at Aaron's feet, and he guesses this angel in particular isn't quite coordinated enough, and he falls flat on his ass. Tamara takes the opportunity to crawl on top of him and try to stab his neck, which Aaron thankfully dodges somehow. Aaron swings with the sword again, and Tamara dodges it, although it trims the end of her braid a bit. She then does the most badass double-flip thing _over_ Aaron's wing and ends up holding a knife to his throat.

"It's over, Aaron." Tamara says, spitting the words out as if they were poison.

"Come on, Tamara, we both know you don't have the guts to kill me. We were best friends, before you decided to fall. Rufus can bring you back to the light. Bring back your wings." Tamara winces, as if her wings are a bad memory she doesn't want to resurface.

"I cut off my wings because I wanted to, because Rufus is a snobbish prick and I don't want to be herded like a sheep for all eternity! I thought you would understand. I thought you knew why I left." A sad look comes into Aaron's eyes, but it's quickly replaced with anger.

"Regardless of whether you agree with the rules or not, you betrayed all of us. You betrayed Celia. You betrayed Jasper. You betrayed me. You could have at least told us you were leaving." Tamara scoffed, but Call could see she was hurt. Her grip on the knife tightened.

"Jasper wouldn't have kept a secret that big for two minutes, the pious son of a bitch. And you.... Never mind. You're just stalling." More quickly than Call thought humanly possible, Tamara ran over to Call, who was just trying to enjoy his nuggets, and put the knife to his throat instead.

"Leave or I'll kill him." Tamara said from behind him. 

"Good. He belongs as an angel, like his mother. He'll end up in heaven, where he belongs."

"He clearly belongs in Hell, Aaron. I can see it in his eyes. He'll fall the moment I slit his throat. Or maybe he'll disappear altogether." Call's jaw hit the floor at how easily they were discussing murdering him in cold blood. And one of them an angel, no less. Weren't angels supposed to be good?

"Let's not kill me, please. It's the right thing to do. Please." he said, looking to Aaron pleadingly. "It's the right thing to do. You can rescue me later." Aaron looked indecisive for a moment, looked like he almost wanted to grab Call away from Tamara, dead or alive. But then, mercifully, he walked away through the gaping hole in the wall, leaving call with a knife to his throat, still hungry, and mildly traumatized, but alive. 


End file.
